


Heavy Is the Helm (That Bears the Guilt)

by kijikun, Obstinate Nocturna (ChrisCrossed)



Series: The Flow of the Light [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Background Rodimus/Megatron, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, ghost!bumblebee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kijikun/pseuds/kijikun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCrossed/pseuds/Obstinate%20Nocturna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream is not happy with the latest news from the Lost Light.  If he's not happy, then others shouldn't be happy either. This will be enforced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Is the Helm (That Bears the Guilt)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to our wonderful beta harutemu.
> 
> This fic and others in this series will mostly ignore most current ex-rid canon events, especially ones after Dark Cybertron. Most events from Windblade and related series are still kept. In practice, all this means for this fic is that Optimus is on Cybertron acting as Prime.

 

 

_“So full of artless jealousy is guilt,  
_

_It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.”  
_

_― William Shakespeare, Hamlet_

 

 

The dart hit Megatron square between the optics. The next his right optic, then his left. Followed by two more to each optic.

It didn't make Starscream feel the least bit better. He stalked over to the picture of Megatron that he'd taped up on his berthroom wall over a dart board- he'd have to replace this one soon it was getting too tattered - and yanked out the darts. He ignored how the distance felt too large. The room was hardly big, nothing like the huge elegant quarters he'd envisioned once for himself when he'd imagined becoming a leader. It wouldn't be right to have more than his people. He _did_ care about such things no matter what Windblade or Blurr or Prime thought. 

Starscream glared at the picture. How Megatron seemed to smirk at him due to all the rips and holes. He hissed, wings rattling.

"How _dare you be happy._ "

It wasn't _fair_. It wasn't _right_. How, how, _how_ could this have happened? This wasn't what was _supposed_ to have happened.

"I _won_ ," he hissed at the picture. "I won. I lived through you. So why can't you just _die_? You were supposed to be _dead._ Not respected, not _happy._ You were supposed to be dead and I was supposed to be finally rid of you and _safe_ from you!"

Starscream ripped the picture off the wall and tore it into pieces, venting hard. He wanted to destroy something, but there was nothing that could be as easily replaced as the picture of Megatron. 

Courting, Windblade had told him with a smug little smile like she was punishing him for something. Megatron was _courting_ Rodimus. And from the sound of it, the littlest Prime had _accepted_. Was even _courting him back_.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be the one with all the respect, glory, and a mate on his arm. He was the Chosen One! He was the Ruler of Cybertron. He was the one that should be --

"I _won_ ," he hissed again, shuttering his optics in denial of the cleansing fluid filling them. "This isn't _fair._ I won you slagging piece of scrap."

He _won_. Finally won -- at the cost of a friend his processor reminded him pulling up the image of Metalhawk -- but he'd still _won._ That had been necessary -- everything he'd done had been necessary for Cybertron to thrive!

He'd survived Megatron, and the Decepticons, and he was still surviving everything that could be thrown at him now. He and Cybertron together!

But Megatron was alive, and clearly _happy_ , and Starscream was --

Leader -

_Ignored -_

Respected -

_Hated -_

Adored -

_Feared_

Was -

 _Miserable_ -

 _Alone_. 

Starscream collapsed down onto his berth, the bottom of his wings tangling in the mess of mesh covers. 

Windblade tolerated him, but only barely. As did Blurr. Wheeljack was the closest he could call to a _friend -_ \- he wasn't foolish enough to think Rattrap wouldn't turn on him at some point - though he wasn't sure Wheeljack would agree. Prime despised him almost openly.

\--and he'd tried to murder Thundercracker last he'd laid optics on his former trine-mate.

Starscream covered his face with his servos. He'd melted too many bridges into slag. 

"And whose fault is that."

"Yes, rub it in, thank you," Starscream muttered from behind his servos.. “I’m trying to sulk in peace, if you don’t mind. _Go away_.”

"No."

Starscream peeked out from behind his servos. "You are the worst haunting. I want a refund."

Bumblebee looked as exasperated with Starscream in death as he had in life. Starscream contemplated, vaguely and briefly, that if Bumblebee _was_ a figment of his fragged up processor, what that said about his opinion of himself. "Sorry no refunds or returns," the data ghost of sorts told him. "I'd remind you that you didn't actually win and Megatron didn't actually lose and real life doesn't work like that, but I suspect you know that. Which is why the tantrum."

Starscream glared, which also affected Bumblebee about as much as it had when he was still alive -- which was to say, not at all. 

"Maybe you should get one of those psychologists from Windblade's list for yourself. Of course, that would involve you being willing to trust anyone with your issues," Bumblebee said dryly. "Which we both know you won’t. But you should."

“Are you _quite_ finished now?” Starscream asked, gritting his denta.

Bumblebee waved the cane he didn't need since he was a _ghost_ \- the fragger - at Starscream. "Yes."

"Ugh," Starscream groaned. "What I need is for mechs to stop pushing back at infrastructure improvements. What I need is for Windblade to not blame me for things I actually did not do! What I need is for Prime to get whatever steel pole he shoved up his port after Megatron's trial _out_ , then pull the one in Prowl out, and _work with me_." 

“You’re not exactly trying real hard to work with any of them,” Bumblebee pointed out.

Starscream threw the remaining pieces of the poster - why was he still even holding those - to the floor. "I am too!" he shrieked to empty air. "Slagger." He huffed, ex-venting harshly as he looked around at the mess now covering his floor. 

Part of his processor thought about that list of Windblade's that she'd given to the Lost Light; another part told him to just curl up, recharge and deal with everything later; and the small bit that was left seemed to twist vindictively and whispered - _make someone else hurt too._

He hadn't really given in to that twisting niggling desire to be vindictive and petty and cruel -- not really despite what many thought -- for a while. His lips twisted into a smirk, but oh, he knew _just_ the mech.

Starscream rose to his feet and sauntered over to the communication vidscreen. He punched in the code that had become sadly familiar and put on his most serene smile. 

"Good orn, Prime," he greeted as the image of Optimus Prime filled the screen. Prime's battle mask was covering his mouth, but Starscream knew he was scowling. His optics always narrowed in just a certain way. 

Not that he spent much time looking at Prime's optics.

Prime's optics narrowed more. "Starscream, is something on fire?"

"Not that I know about?" Starscream examined the tips of his servos in part because it annoyed Prime, but also because he needed to repaint them soon.Funny how he seemed to wear the paint off his hands more now than in the war. “Why do you always assume something’s gone wrong if I’m calling you?”

Prime exvented audibly. "I can't imagine," he muttered in what was almost a nasty tone. Well someone had woken up on the wrong side of the berth. "What is it that has you calling at this time?"

Starscream's lips curved into a sharp smile. One he'd practiced in the mirror back in his Academy days until it came naturally as flying. "I recently learned the most interesting news from Windblade. I thought my fellow Leader of the Cybertronian people would wish to know about it." 

“Starscream I really don't have time for gossip,” Prime said, sounding more than a little annoyed. 

That was a tone Starscream was more than used to. Normally, it would enflame Stascream’s own constant irritation with the Autobot leader. Tonight though, it only served to further feed the growing desire to ruin someone else’s orn like his had been.

"Oh, but this isn't gossip. This is intel about the war criminal you gave the position of Captain of the Lost Light to," Starscream said in the sweetest tone he possessed. He fanned his wings out innocent and helpful, "Something that, thinking on it, I don't think you could legally do, but that's neither here nor there now, is it?"

Optimus made a noise that might have been a growl, but certainly the Prime would never do such a thing. Though that rumbling tone did sound rather enticing in Prime's voice. “What is it, Starscream? Before I close the channel and go back to my recharge."

Starscream spread his wings a little wider, raising them just a tick. "Megatron is courting Rodimus."

Starscream had never been as grateful for Optimus’ face mask as he was at that moment, because the way the Prime’s optics widened was downright comical and he wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself from bursting out laughing if he could see Optimus’ full expression. "What," Prime practically ground out.

He made a idle waving motion with his hand. "Windblade, as you are aware, had compiled a list of psychologists - that we could spare of course, so many of our people are in need of care after the prolonged conflict as you know - for the Lost Light. One of her fellow Camiens was quite happy to relay to her about the rather romantic, old fashioned formal courting going on between the two 'co' Captains," Starscream went on, as if the news hadn't affected him at all. "I do wonder what Megatron is up to with such a ploy, but then it's hardly our concern here on Cybertron is it? I only thought you'd like to be made aware since you are the one that placed Megatron there and Rodimus is your successor in a sense."

Starscream swore he could almost hear the joints of Optimus’ servos strain as he curled them into angry fists just off screen, of his denta grinding behind his mask. That should make him feel better shouldn't it? 

“If that's all, Starscream, I have a great many meetings next orn. As do you, so we would both be best served by getting our recharge.”

"Of course, Prime," Starscream purred, with a respectful tilt of his wings. ”Don't let me keep you from the rest required to properly attend the spiritual needs of our people.”

Optimus cut the feed almost before Starscream had finished speaking, and the Seeker allowed himself a vindictive little chuckle. That would take care of _that_ little problem, he was sure of it.

He strutted back over to his berth, then came to a stop staring down at the torn fragments of Megatron's picture.

Strange how he didn't feel any better. 


End file.
